You're Out of This World, Valentine!
by tgifridays
Summary: As a scientist, Pai doesn't believe in anything that he can't see or touch. He doesn't believe in the intangible, and he definitely doesn't believe in expensive, corporate holidays. [Pai/Retasu]


The warmth and noisy din of Cafe Mew Mew was like a physical wall that hit Pai as soon as he opened the front door.

"_Alien alert, alien alert!_" beeped a small, synthetic voice, just as a flying pink furball bounced off his broad shoulder. Six years and they _still_ hadn't bothered getting that thing fixed.

Pai flicked Masha out of his way, sending the robot sailing across the entryway, before double-checking to make sure the device hiding his ears was activated and shrugging out of his damp jacket. It had been raining the entire flight there, which wouldn't have been such an inconvenience had he the energy to teleport. When you were running on nothing but coffee and maybe three hours of sleep rain was _very_ inconvenient, especially when you were flying right up against the clouds to avoid being spotted by curious passersby.

Maybe it was time he bought a car.

It was a busy day at the cafe, even for a Friday afternoon, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the place this packed. The stand by area was filled to capacity, Pai towering a good head taller than the sea of pre-teen girls and unhappy boyfriends waiting for seats, all of whom paled and parted ways at the mere sight of him. Zakuro stood at the hostess podium, staring out over the waiting customers vacantly.

A couple was loudly complaining that they'd booked a reservation months in advance but the dark-haired woman didn't even blink, her eyes glazed over in obvious disinterest. The pair immediately lapsed into silence as Pai approached, though, practically jumping out of his way to let him through.

Zakuro tipped her head in the direction of the kitchen. "Shirogane's in the back." A long pause. "Also, you look like shit."

Pai took a sip from the Styrofoam cup he was holding. He didn't need her to tell him that, but the wolf Mew was one of the few people that would not be intimidated by cold words or an icy stare. He merely grunted to acknowledge he'd heard her.

He'd left so late last night he wasn't sure when they'd had time to decorate, but the already colorful cafe had been revamped in blinding shades of ruby and fuschia, so bright it made him squint. Sparkling new chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, the plastic tables below them covered in lace tablecloths and heart-shaped candles, and as Pai walked he found himself wading through heart-shaped confetti. He'd always known the appeal of Cafe Mew Mew targeted a demographic far outside his own, but while the giggling girls sitting at the tables _ooh_-ed and _aah_-ed over the chocolate fountain newly installed in the dining area he wondered what precisely had prompted this gaudy overhaul.

"Hey, your test results came back this morning," called Ryou as he emerged from the swinging double doors of the kitchen, waving a clipboard. "The good news is: you're _not_ pregnant."

"I'm in no mood, human," glowered Pai, unamused. Although to be fair there was something indescribable about the human boy that _always_ put him in a bad mood.

"Hey, no need for the attitude." Ryou held up his hands in defense. "I didn't even get to the bad news. Oh, yup, here it is. You're still a prick." Smirking, he lobbed Pai the clipboard as he walked by. The alien's lips curled back over his fangs. Scratch that, _very_ describable.

No one seemed to be taking him seriously today. Sometimes he missed the old days, when he could simply kill any human who irritated him. Pai figured he was hardly the first person to fantasize about murdering their boss, though.

Drink in one hand, clipboard in the other, he flipped through the computer printouts as he headed towards the lab, skimming through color-coded graphs and statistics in search of the lab results from his latest experiment. He'd spent a long night behind a computer screen crunching numbers, and while it was almost 2pm he was teetering on the edge of consciousness. Unshaven, bed-headed, and the sleeves of the shirt he'd fallen asleep in rolled up to his elbows. Customers sidestepped him automatically as he headed towards the back room, careful not to brush up against the cranky scientist who'd wandered into their midst. He was so caught up in his paperwork he didn't see Retasu until she barreled right into him outside the changing rooms.

He swore as he swung his coffee out of the way, trying not to dump boiling hot liquid on the young woman. Her hands flew up to cushion herself against his chest, a stream of apologies already tumbling from her lips until she realized who the hand steadying her waist belonged to.

"Oh, P-P-Pai-san, I was looking for you!" exclaimed Retasu, face going pink as she leapt away, putting a respectable arm's length distance between them. "I was afraid I might miss you! How are you?"

Were it anyone else he would've berated them for not watching where they were going, but he knew he'd been doing the same thing, and when she was smiling sheepishly up at him it was hard to quite focus on anything else. Retasu's long emerald hair was swept into a single braid over the shoulder of her pale blue sweater, paired with a high-waisted skirt and leggings. She was fresh-faced and bright-eyed, a stark contrast to how he looked and felt. There was a distractingly large mustard stain on the collar of his shirt he'd only just noticed.

"Fine," snapped Pai in answer to her question, making her flinch. He immediately regretted it. He had no reason to be short with her. He couldn't even say he was displeased to see her - her presence was probably the first even moderately pleasant thing to happen all morning. "I mean. . .I didn't sleep much, but I am otherwise acceptable."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Retasu, frowning. If she'd noticed his disheveled, slightly soggy appearance she was too polite to mention it. "Another long night in the lab?"

"You could say that. Are you working today?" He allowed himself to feel a twinge of relief that he might have someone not _completely_ unbearable to talk to in-between work.

"Ah, no, I was just in to pick up my paycheck," admitted Retasu, looking guiltily out at the crowded restaurant. "I feel bad because Shirogane-san's so swamped, but I have class soon so I really can't stay. . ."

Pai felt that Shirogane was the last person who deserved her sympathy, but he didn't say that out loud. Not everyone in the cafe seemed to share his disdain for the younger man. "I'm sure they'll manage."

"I'm sure you're right, of course. . .I do have that book you wanted, though!" Retasu fumbled through her purse, digging past loose change and pens. "I was just going to leave it on your desk if I didn't see you, but I'm glad I ran into you - oh! Here it is!"

He recognized it immediately - a white paperback on something called social physics that had caught his attention while he was accompanying her on errands the other day. She must've gone back and bought it later. "I only kind of skimmed it, but it looks interesting!"

He flipped it over to scan the book summary. "How much was it? I'll reimburse you, of course."

"No, don't worry about it! Actually, there was something else as well-"

She'd also pulled a small box out of her bag, and she eagerly handed it to Pai.

"It's, um, chocolate!" clarified Retasu, giving him a shy smile. "J-Just something I whipped up last night! I had the ingredients sitting around anyway, so I thought, you know, might as well."

It was a plain black box, about the size of envelope, wrapped carefully in an ocean-blue ribbon. The characters for his name were written neatly under the bow in her careful handwriting.

"You didn't need to make me this," Pai said, taken aback by the unexpected gift.

"W-Well, actually, studies have found that the phenylethylamine in chocolate works as a m-mood-elevator and increases your alertness!" she explained, pushing up her glasses. "It's like an amphetamine without the dependence! I figured you could eat it while you work to keep you focused."

Normally the implication that he'd need help focusing was preposterous in itself, but with dark circles under his eyes and a mustard stain on his shirt even he could see the use. Still, health benefits aside, she'd forgotten that he didn't actually-

"And don't worry, I remembered you don't like sweet things, so I made sure it's dark chocolate," added Retasu, as she fiddled with the end of her braid. She offered him another small smile, blush deepening a fraction.

Pai wasn't normally big on sentiments of friendship or familial affection. When Akasaka had gotten sick last month they'd passed around a card for everyone to sign and he'd written 'your symptoms are probably not terminal.' Christmas was something to be dreaded, and he preferred his birthday to go unnoticed altogether, but Retasu had clearly put thought into the present, even if he couldn't fathom why she would go through all the trouble. It wasn't. . .his _birthday_, was it? He _had _been awfully caught up in work lately but no, that wasn't until next month. . .

He stiffly accepted the box with what he hoped was a grateful nod. "Thank you, Midorikawa-san."

"So are you doing anything after-"

"Move it, you two," came a haughty voice as Minto emerged from the changing room, pushing past them. "_Some_ of us are actually trying to _work_ here."

If Retasu looked momentarily disappointed Pai must have imagined it. She smiled sheepishly, moving to let the younger woman pass. "Ah, sorry, Minto-san. Well, I guess that's my cue to leave; I wouldn't want to keep you from your research any longer, Pai-san."

He wanted to say that he much preferred her company to being stuck in the basement performing experiments with her blonde blockhead of a boss for the next five hours, but he felt it might be rude. She was turned to leave, hand tight on the strap of her purse, but seemed like she still had something to say as well. His gaze dropped to where she was worrying her lip between her teeth, smudging the thin layer of lipgloss she was wearing. Odd, she didn't usually wear makeup -

"So, um, h-have a good day! Good luck with your work!" she said, not meeting his eyes. Standing on her toes she leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, barely a brush against his skin.

He blinked. It was so quick he might've imagined it, were it not for the sticky imprint of her lips she left behind on his jawline.

"A-A-And g-g-get some rest, okay?" she stuttered, face bright red.

He touched the side of his face as he watched her scurry away, her purse bobbing behind her. Strange. . .usually they just said goodbye.

In some ways Retasu was the most predictable human he knew. She was shy, easily flustered. She didn't like to make her friends worry and hated causing pain. She ate the same thing for lunch every day out of the bento box she packed herself every morning.

In more ways, though, she was also the most confusing. The box of chocolates in his hand and the fading warmth on the side of his face was evidence of that. He watched her stumble into a customer, apologizing profusely and bowing hastily even as she walked out the door, and did not allow himself to dwell on the change in routine.

Inside the changing room he hung up his coat and placed the book Retasu had given him on the top shelf of his locker. He wasn't technically an employee, but he still had a compartment to himself with his name over it, right between his brothers'. While his siblings worked at the cafe almost full time to make rent and stay out of trouble, Pai spent much of his time downstairs in Shirogane's lab, working on restoring his home planet to its full potential.

Returning with Mew Aqua after the final battle with Deep Blue had certainly made living conditions more bearable - for the first time in centuries his people were living _above_ ground - but they still had a long way to go before reaching a self-sustaining ecosystem, and presently Earth was the best place for Pai to continue his research. Even Shirogane, a continuing pain in his neck and thorn in his side, had proved helpful in his endeavors, and the eldest alien was hoping to have his people off vitamin supplements by the end of the year. It was more progress than he could've ever _imagined_ half a decade ago.

Pai paused for a moment in front of his locker, box of chocolates in hand, but changed his mind at the last second and tucked it into the back pocket of his pants. As he finished his coffee in one gulp he felt almost awake, and, momentarily free from the overbearing crush of people in the cafe, he returned to his clipboard, scanning the documents for his results. That was when the open door of his locker slammed shut, revealing the last person he wanted to see when he was in a bad mood slouched against the locker beside him.

"Come here often?" asked a smirking Kisshu, waggling his eyebrows and snapping his gum loudly. "I think I'd remember a pretty face like yours."

"Your breath reeks," stated Pai, with the same amount of enthusiasm he always greeted his brother.

The younger alien held his hand up to his mouth. "That's weird. I used _your_ toothbrush this morning. . ."

Pai made a mental note to burn said toothbrush. Kisshu was in his waiter's uniform, his bottle green hair tied into the low ponytail he wore for work, meaning he was hiding in the dressing room on his lunch break. "So got any plans for the big day? This the year you finally go all out?"

He was surprised by the sudden interest in his plans and looked up from his clipboard. "The big day? You mean. . .Friday? Well there _was_ a documentary playing on the migratory patterns of -"

"Wow, fascinating. Please, tell me more. Just kidding I was totally being sarcastic, please stop." Kisshu's golden eyes narrowed in on the side of Pai's face and he reached out a thumb to swipe against his jawline, making him flinch.

Kisshu grimaced, pulling his hand away. "Ewwww, you're all prickly. _Some_body didn't wake up until noon today. And no, _moron_, I didn't mean _Friday_. Do you have plans for _Valentine's_ Day."

Oh right, it was February. That explained why the cafe was crowded to the point of fire hazard. Pai finally found what he was looking for on the last page of the packet, almost invisible amidst the other numbers. "Valentine's Day - the commemoration of Emperor Claudius Gothicus's execution of Saint Valentin, who refused to renounce Christianity and died as a result. How could I possibly forget." He turned to leave the changing room and Kisshu slinked after him, spitting his gum into the trash.

"Okay _thanks_, Wikipedia. Next time I need to Google something I'll come to you. Don't even_ try_ to give me that fuckin' 'corporate-invented holiday' bullshit speech you gave me last year, though. I get it, romance is an imaginary human construct."

"Isn't it, though?" The mitochondria count on his test group was up, that was good, but the improvement wasn't great enough to start crossbreeding. He'd have to run another trial. "As animals, there is only the base instinct to reproduce. Very few animals mate for life, and love as humans know it isn't inherent: it's learned, from television, movies, mindless pop culture, training them to-"

"-respond to perceived romantic triggers holy_ shit_ you aren't even paying at_ten_tion to me right now. You have this speech _memorized_, don't you?" Kisshu snatched the clipboard from his brother, horror-stricken. "Did ma not hug you enough when you were little? Was that it? 'Base instinct to reproduce' do you ever listen to yourself talk because honestly I would _not_ recommend it."

He flipped through the clipboard, losing immediate interest until his eyes landed on the little black box in the other alien's back pocket. "Oooh, what's that? Is it for me?"

He tossed the clipboard over his shoulder and when an unamused Pai bent to pick it up he plucked the box from his pocket. He reached to take it back, but not before Kisshu'd already read the label out loud.

"From _Retasu_-chan? Why am I _not_ surprised."

"Kisshu. . ." warned his brother, gritting his teeth.

"She's dedicated, I'll give her that," he muttered, sliding the ribbon down to peer into the box. "She makes you this stuff every year, and for what? So you can dump it in a drawer somewhere and forget about it? I bet you don't even_ eat_ it, you ungrateful. . ._clod._"

"I _said_ thank you," frowned Pai, mildly affronted as he took the candy back.

Kisshu slung his free arm around his brother's broad shoulders. "You know, Pai, you can go on and on about the history of the cat-holy church and the futility of love or whatever, but you don't know _squat_ about Valentine's Day. It's not just about big business and corporate America! You gotta go out and _woo_ a girl! Show her the sights! Show her the _stars_! Hell, make her _see_ some stars, if you catch my drift. If somebody gives you chocolate, you don't just. . .say_ thank you_."

Pai brushed his brother's arm away. He was loathe to physical contact, especially when it came to one particular clingy alien. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was dealing with such a relationship expert." He readjusted the ribbon around the box, securing the lid tightly in place.

Kisshu looked irritatingly smug. "I'll have _you_ know that _I've_ got reservations for two at the nicest sushi place in Tokyo. Booked it last February in advance."

"So your right hand was able to make it after all."

He spluttered, punching him in the arm. "What, you been savin' that one all year? No_, asshole,_ it's for me and Koneko-chan!"

"Ah. For you and the human you're still not dating. Of course."

Like almost everything that came out of his older brother's mouth, Kisshu disregarded the comment. "I _told_ you, I'm starting to get through to her! Speeeeaking of which, be honest with me, which of these looks better." He produced two shirts from the pocket of his waiter's apron, unfurling them for Pai's approval. "On one hand it's a pretty fancy place, so black would be more traditional, but _this_ one really reminds me of Koneko-chan. What do you think?"

Pai appraised the two women's crop tops with a heavy stare. "I _think_. . .that you stole those from Momomiya-san's closet."

"Well, duh! It's sexy when a girl wears her boyfriend's shirt, right? Plus we're like exactly the same size so it's really convenient. Anyways, is that a yes or no on the 'check _meow_-t' shirt? I've only got six hours before dinner, I need something decisive."

Pai rubbed one hand across his face and up through his hair, sighing the long-suffering sigh of a man who'd been putting up with stupid sibling questions for over two decades. "I think. . .that if you _truly_ care about someone. . it won't matter what they wear. . .because it's their _heart_. . .that's really important."

Kisshu leveled him with an unimpressed stare. "You _know_ how much I fuckin' hate it when you try to be funny. Almost as annoying as when you try to show off with big words."

He stuffed the shirts back in the black apron around his waist. "Okay how 'bout a different approach. What would_ you_ wear to dinner if it were _Retasu_-chan? Like if you were really trying to impress her?"

Pai resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I can hardly see how that's relevant, since I have no need to impress Midorikawa-san. We are merely coworkers."

Kisshu snorted. "Yeah. 'Coworkers'. _Now_ I can't tell if you're joking. Or maybe you really _are_ that thick-headed." He rapped his knuckles against said thick head for emphasis. "Hey, bozo, do you know _why_ people make chocolate on Valentine's Day? Or do you think she's just givin' it out to everybody?"

Pai remembered Retasu's words from before. "Well actually, studies have found that the phenylethylamine chemical found in chocolate's linked to-"

This statement actually made Kisshu stop in his tracks "Studies have _found_?" His mouth curled with disgust as he held out an arm across Pai's stomach, stopping him as well. "The shit that comes out of your filthy fuckin' mouth sometimes, man-"

"_There_ you are, idiot!" snarled a voice, the only warning before a hand grabbed the scruff of Kisshu's collar, yanking him backwards. "I've been looking for you for the _last hour_!"

"Oh, Koneko-chan!" he purred, voice syrupy sweet as he craned his neck to look up at her. "If you missed me you could've just said so!"

"Why am I the _only one_ serving right now in the _middle of lunch rush_?" demanded Ichigo, pulling 'til he was practically bent over double. Her normally pristine white apron was stained a rainbow of colors, the pleats of her skirt smoking. She smelled of sweat and burnt hair and if Pai thought _he'd_ been having a bad morning she'd just shown him up in every way. Fresh blood was smeared across her temples.

Kisshu blinked up at her, staggering for balance in her steel grip. "Eh, isn't Minto-chan working?"

"I haven't seen Minto since she left for her tea break and I've got people asking to speak with our manager who has _also_ conveniently disappeared. Those candles have set two tablecloths on fire, we just ran out of fucking _butter_, and if you don't get some tables bussed and some customers seated right this second you'll be eating sushi through a _breathing tube_ tonight, understand?"

He brightened. "So we _are_ still on for dinner!"

She dropped him with an aggravated cry and threw her hands in the air before pointing at Pai. "As for _you_, buddy, unless you're gonna put on a hairnet and help out in the kitchen you better _get out of my way._" She prodded him once in the chest, hard, before stomping away from them, leaving a trail of muddy footprints in her path.

Kisshu clambered to his feet, winking at Pai even as he rubbed the fresh bruise forming on his hip.

"Told ya' she's warming up to me!" he grinned, before hurrying after her violently retreating figure. "Wait up!"

Pai would never understand his brother's fascination with the catgirl, but at least he'd be out of the apartment for the night.

Away from the deafening clatter of the café lunch rush, the lab was blessedly empty. The only sound was the low hum of electricity as he flipped the machinery to life. He dropped his clipboard onto one of the tables, where it landed on a topographical map of Tokyo. Shirogane would probably be down any minute to escape the angry mob slowly forming upstairs, but for now he was alone, just the way he liked it. He dispensed some hand sanitizer from the container on his desk and tried not to think about when Kisshu had showered last.

As Pai took a seat at the computer in the corner of the room, cracking his knuckles in preparation for several hours running numbers, he set the box of chocolates Retasu had given him beside the keyboard. The blue glow of the start-up screen illuminated the box, casting a long shadow across his desk that was impossible to ignore.

He had an IQ of over 200, immeasurable by human methods of testing, but he still forgot about Valentine's Day every year and what it entailed. Still she gave him chocolate, each batch different from the last. Last year it had been pears covered in chocolate. The year before that, green tea-flavored truffles contained in the anatomically incorrect shape of a heart. The year before _that_ she'd tripped over a chair and dropped the candy stars she'd prepared and spent the rest of the day avoiding him in her soul-crushing embarrassment.

Pai untied the ribbon around the box, removing the lid. The box was lined with blue tissue paper to match the ribbon and lined neatly with small squares of chocolate, so dark they were almost black. As he examined the slightly irregular surface texture of the pieces he couldn't help but picture Retasu working away at a mixing bowl, whisk in hand. Someone as clumsy as her seemed like they'd be a disaster in the kitchen, knocking ingredients every which way but the bowl, but the end product was undeniable. She knew how to bake, and for some reason the image of her smiling cheerfully in an apron did irregular things to his heartbeat.

He shook the image from his mind and glanced up from the box at the empty lab, as though someone might. . .what? Open the door and catch him eating? He realized how ridiculous he was being and held a piece up in the light of the computer. He _was_ pretty hungry. Coffee on an empty stomach only got you so far.

Pai bit down on the piece and it broke off with a satisfying _snap_. He closed his eyes, allowing the balance of creamy texture and bitter flavor to melt in his mouth.

He didn't often have uninterrupted time to himself, and he took a long moment to savor the taste. Human cuisine was always so extravagant, people paying top-dollar for something that was so very temporary. More often than not he preferred takeout, eating only to keep himself alive. The only cooking appliance in his apartment he used with any real frequency was the _microwave_. Caviar confused him and he abhorred alcohol, but chocolate. . .he had no immediate plans to add it to his everyday diet, but perhaps humans weren't _completely_ useless.

In the monitor he caught sight of his face as he chewed and squinted at his pale reflection, turning to examine his jaw. Was that. . .?

A faint pink imprint of a kiss along the side of his face that no one had bothered pointing out, in the exact shape of Retasu's lips. A strange heat flooded Pai's face, stretching from his collarbone to the tips of his ears.

He wiped his hand across his cheek and made a mental note to investigate the downstairs ventilation system before biting into another piece of chocolate. There was obviously a problem with the air circulation if it was getting this warm.

* * *

Her cellphone pressed between her ear and shoulder, an anatomy textbook in one hand and a fistful of individually-wrapped chocolates in the other, Retasu closed the kitchen cabinet with her hip. "So _what's_ the problem exactly?"

"Retasu-chan you are _not_ taking this seriously!" Ichigo's eye-roll was easy to picture, even from the other side of Tokyo. "What am I supposed to wear on this date?"

The older girl carefully unwrapped one of the chocolates, crumpling the foil wrapper as she put the candy in her mouth. It was milk chocolate, so sweet it made her toes curl and filling her with a warmth throughout her entire body. "O-Of course I'm taking this seriously! You said the black one makes your legs look good, right? Wear that one, then."

"That's the issue, though! Aoyama-kun might be overseas right now but I don't want Kisshu getting the wrong idea. I need to look hot but also _totally _unavailable, you know?"

Retasu could safely say she had _no_ idea what her friend was talking about. They'd been going over everything from what kind of deodorant Ichigo should use to how long she should make him wait at the door, which was more thought than she'd ever put into her dates with Masaya. Retasu was quickly learning that dating was a lot more complicated than she could've ever imagined. "No offense, Ichigo-san, but if you're so worried about tonight, why did you say yes in the first place?"

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, just long enough for the phone to pick up the faint rumble of her stomach. "Well. . .it's a _really_ nice restaurant. I hear you have to book a _year_ in advance!"

"Don't tell me you're leading Kisshu-san on for _free food!_" gasped the older girl as she took a seat on her small living room couch, already unwrapping a second chocolate.

"Their tuna rolls are supposed to be a-_ma_-zing!" she whined, salivating audibly over the line. "And it's not _leading him on_, it's just dinner! Expensive dinner that he happens to be paying for. And if he's expecting anything more than the pleasure of my company I've still got that can of mace from that safety seminar we went to."

Retasu grimaced. "Just try not to use it on him _during_ dinner, okay?"

"Believe me. _Not_ as easy as it sounds. At this point I'm just hoping he remembered to drive. My stomach doesn't _do_ flying and I'll be throwing up expensive sushi all night. Now where did I put those heels. . ."

They settled into a comfortable silence as Retasu cracked open her homework and Ichigo continued to empty the contents of her closet onto her mattress. The quiet was broken only by the sound of chewing, and the occasional soft crinkle of foil paper.

"Ugh, maybe you had the right idea, staying in for the night." By the creak of bed springs Retasu could visualize her friend flopping bonelessly onto her pile of clothes. "Maybe I'll just wear my footie pajamas. Tell him they're sexy lingerie. He probably wouldn't even care."

"Mm-hmm," she replied absent-mindedly, popping another candy into her mouth. This one was white chocolate, smooth and creamy against her tongue. Retasu considered herself a fairly health-conscious eater, especially since she had to live on a waitress's salary, but it was _Valentine's Day._ She even had a bag of fresh grapes, her favorite food, in the fridge, but if you weren't allowed to gorge yourself on sweets _today_, then when _were_ you?

"How's your homework going, anyway? You've got a big test coming up don't you?"

"Not for a few more weeks," she admitted, flipping through her anatomy textbook. "I might as well study while I've got some free time, though."

"In that case I'll come by after my hot date. I'll bring mint chocolate chip ice cream and one of those trashy rom-coms you like-"

"They're not trashy!"

"-they _are_ trashy and it'll be fun, come on!"

"It _has_ been a while since we had a sleepover." Between differing school schedules and working part-time they really only ever got to see each other on lunch breaks. She unwrapped the last of the store-bought chocolate truffles, bringing it to her lips. "But only if you promise to bring the footie pajamas."

"Hey, _I'm_ not the one embarrassed by them. Although now that you're moved out I guess I won't have to worry about your family seeing me in them."

Retasu giggled. "It's okay, I think Uri-kun had the same pair when he was younger."

"Wow, _rude_, Retasu-chan," mock-pouted Ichigo. "Also hey, speaking of Valentine's Day, why _did_ you turn down Shirogane for dinner?"

Retasu choked on the last bite of her chocolate at the sudden change in topic, textbook and candy-wrappers toppling to the floor.

"H-How did you know about that?" squeaked the older girl, once she'd successfully returned normal air flow to her lungs.

"Um, because he asks you literally every year? Only _every_body knows," explained Ichigo as she strummed her fingers against the receiver on the other end. "You have to be the only person I know who'd turn down the youngest person to ever make it on the Forbes 100, Retasu-chan. Even _I_ don't get it - a night on his fancy yacht? Dinner and dancing? God, just i_mag_ine that all-you-can-eat buffet-"

"N-Not everyone's as interested in free food as you are, Ichigo-san!" came Retasu's indignant reply.

"I don't get it, though - you used to have _such_ the hots for him. What happened between you two?"

"Nothing _happened!_" sputtered Retasu. "P-People change, that's all! I just. . .don't see him that way anymore! And I'm waiting for the right guy, you know?"

"You always _were_ the hopeless romantic, huh. Well you gotta stop looking for Mr. Right and start thinking about Mr. Right _Now._ Mister _Right-Now-With-A-Yacht._ Doki-Doki Teen Beat nominated him bachelor of the year _again_, you know."

"Honestly, Ichigo-san, aren't you a little old to be reading that." There was a knock at her door and she looked up from the couch. Weird, she wasn't expecting any packages today. "Hold on, I think someone's here."

"Um, and aren't you a little _young_ to be reading all those romance novels you think I don't know are hidden underneath your couch?" teased Ichigo.

"Th-That was one time!" stammered Retasu, going red as she unlocked her door. "Purin-chan bought it as a joke!"

"What was the name of it again? Close Encounters of the Carnal Kind? Or was it E.T. the Erotic Terrestrial? Seriously, you have the _weirdest_ taste in guys. Heh, remember when you used to have a crush on _P_-"

"Good evening, Midorikawa-san."

"P-P-Pai-san!" yelped Retasu, the bewilderment of seeing him standing unexpected on her doorstep nearly giving her a heart attack. She heard Ichigo bolt upright in bed on the other end of the line as half-a-dozen pairs of shoes clattered to the floor. "W-W-What a pleasant surprise!"

"Did you just say _Pai_? What the hell is _Pai _doing there?" The next door neighbors could probably hear Ichigo at the pitch her voice had suddenly reached.

"May I come in?" Pai asked coolly, ignoring what must've sounded like a cat yowling over the phone.

Retasu pressed her hand over the receiver, muffling her friend's voice. "Of. . .Of course! Please, come inside!" She opened the door to her apartment wider, moving to let him in. When he'd first returned to Earth he would teleport through doors, usually scaring the living daylights out of whoever was in the next room, but he'd broken that habit quickly enough the first time Retasu fainted.

He had to duck to step through her doorway, and as he stooped to remove his shoes she hissed a quick apology into the phone. "Sorry Ichigo-san, I have to go!"

"_Don't you dare hang up on me Midorikawa Retasu or so help me God-_"

"Good luck with your date tonight!"

"_Text me! You better text me-!_" The call ended with a click.

"This isn't a bad time, is it?" asked Pai, and Retasu spun to face him. As always, she was struck by what an imposing figure he made in her entryway at over two meters tall. She had to actually crane her neck to meet his eyes. He looked considerably more awake than he had that morning when she'd bumped into him, wearing a clean, dark button-up shirt and smelling noticeably of coffee and mouthwash. His hair was brushed, pulled neatly into the band in front of one ear, and, most interestingly of all, he was carrying a grocery bag in each hand.

"No, not at all!" The unfailing air of confidence he carried himself with was even more intimidating in the small space of her home, and it was a powerful force to be caught off guard with. "You just startled me, that's all. Can I. . .Can I get you a. . .drink?"

It was a relief when he nodded, giving her a chance to escape to the kitchen and calm her suddenly-racing heart.

"Green tea, right?" called Retasu, just out of view, and Pai grunted his assent.

It had been a while since he'd paid a visit to Retasu's apartment. With recent developments at work he hadn't had time for much of _anything_. Normally he would've asked whether it was an appropriate time to call on her in advance, but here he was, uninvited and unexpected and wondering if he was being rude.

Her home was small but spacious for one person, consisting of a bedroom and bathroom, just off a living room area and divided kitchenette. He moved to see if she needed assistance in the kitchen but stopped to examine the new addition to her entryway.

"Did you have a safe er, flight here?" asked Retasu over the rattle of dishes from the other room.

"It was fine. The rain let up, but otherwise un-noteworthy," remarked Pai. He traced his finger along the faded wood of the cabinet where Retasu had assembled a collection of photographs in mismatched frames. Many of them were of her family, whom he'd met briefly in passing before - her brother wearing a soccer uniform standing proudly in front of a net - a family portrait, Retasu as tall as her mother, the pair wearing identical smiles.

"Oh, well, that's good! Whenever it rains I worry about you - I mean, you guys out in the cold, you know – I don't want you to get sick or anything, that would be too bad and not just you but also your brothers especially since Taruto-san doesn't wear socks –"

She was nervous. She rambled when she was. He'd been in her home countless times, though – why would his presence cause her unease? "Our immune systems are very strong, Midorikawa-san. And I hope you know that wearing socks doesn't _actually_ prevent sickness."

Some of the pictures on the cabinet he even remembered: the grand re-opening of the café after the aliens' return to Earth, the three of them looking visibly uncomfortable in human clothes amidst the waitresses. Retasu's high-school graduation ceremony, her father's arm wrapped around her shoulders, with a barely-visible Ichigo in the background bawling her eyes out. There were half a dozen pictures of the Mews in everything from their new year's kimonos to last year's Halloween costumes, when they had gone as famous pop-culture extra-terrestrials. Taruto had spent two long hours painstakingly explaining the origin of Superman to him that night after returning home with three pillowcases full of candy.

One picture in particular caught his eye, and he immediately recognized the rusted inside of the photo booth Retasu had convinced him to try out at a local fair. That was only a few months after he'd returned to Earth, and he, not yet accustomed to the needless sentimentality of humans, hadn't understood why anyone would pay ¥500 for a few pictures of themselves. She _knew_ what he looked like, why did she need a physical reminder? He was standing right there.

In the column of photos she was smiling shyly beside him, trying to get him to pose for the camera. He was taken aback by how young she looked, her hair still tied in the symmetrical braids she'd favored up until high school. Six years was a long time, he supposed, especially in the life of a human. A long time to keep a picture, at the very least.

He'd kept his half, of course - he wasn't _completely_ above common courtesy - but between his lab and field research, he spent so little time in the apartment he shared with his brothers that it had probably never moved from the entryway table, gathering dust under a pile of junk mail.

It was a surprise to see it framed alongside pictures of her family and close friends. Flattering? Was that the word? Maybe. . .touching?

He noticed it wasn't the only one of him, either. Tucked behind her parents' wedding picture was a photo from his 26th birthday, wearing the scarf Retasu had knit him while Taruto stuffed his face with cake. A picture from one of their trips to the zoo, Retasu laughing as Pai tried to feed a flamingo. Another of them standing in front of Shirogane's red convertible after she'd taken him on his first driving lesson.

He felt his lip twitch at the memory, recalling how she'd taken Kisshu on _his_ first drive right after and none of them had ever seen that car again.

"These are new," remarked Pai, as Retasu emerged from the kitchenette with two mugs of tea in hand.

She smiled fondly as she handed him his drink. "Since I'm living on my own now, I thought the place needed a more personal touch, don't you agree?" She flinched when her fingers brushed against his around the mug, and her soft smile turned to one of alarm as she realized he was examining a picture of himself.

"Oh, uh, from when we went to the aquarium last month!" explained Retasu hastily, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was such a cute picture of um, Betty, you know-" Betty was the 70 kg finless porpoise the Tokyo aquarium had on display, and her smiling grey head was visible above them in the photo. Retasu had used her phone to snap a selfie of the three of them, and Pai looked stoic next to her glowing face, bathed in the blue light of the tank. Something she'd said or done had distracted him, so while she was looking up at the camera he was looking off to the side at her.

He set the photo down.

"Er, that one was a gift," squeaked Retasu, realizing his attention had been drawn to the winking headshot of Kisshu.

He put that one back, too, but slightly farther from the front, hiding it behind a family portrait. "It's alright. We have the same one at our place."

Retasu directed Pai in the direction of the living room where he went to take a seat, but the couch and coffee table were littered with the textbooks and medical diagrams she'd been studying until he arrived. "As I said, Midorikawa-san, if you're busy with schoolwork, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"Oh, n-no, never! You couldn't possibly! I was just getting ahead on some things, nothing important." She moved her papers to the floor, making room for him on her small couch. "Sorry everything's so messy! If I'd known you were coming I'd have cleaned a little -"

Aside from her schoolwork the apartment was immaculate as usual, not a speck of dust in sight. Pai couldn't quite say the same about his own. He'd had to stop inviting Retasu over so she wouldn't spend her visit throwing away week-old takeout boxes and toilet paper rolls his brothers left behind. "It's the least I can do!" she'd always insist, rubber gloves on and mop in hand as Kisshu showered her in praise and rewarded her with overcooked ramen or cereal.

She cleared the chair on the other side of the table, setting her work in a neat pile on the floor before taking a seat opposite him.

"It's so nice to see you, Pai-san!" Retasu said warmly, much calmer now that she wasn't fretting over the state of her apartment. "Well, I mean, I just saw you this morning, but you know what I mean – it's nice to have you over!" She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, smiling shyly at him. "T-To what do I owe you this pleasure, anyway?"

Pai lifted a large paperback from one of the grocery bags he'd brought in. "I wanted to return your book."

"Y-You finished it already?" It hadn't been six hours since she'd seen him last. When could he possibly-?

He shrugged, sliding it across the table towards her. "I read it after I got off work."

"So you stopped by. . .to return it?" asked Retasu, eyebrows furrowing. "Ah, well, there was really no rush, Pai-san, but thank you, I suppose! What did you think of it?"

For someone in Pai's line of work, it was usually an empty question. The woman at the check-out line in the grocery store wasn't _really_ interested in hearing about the fossilized plant he'd dated to the pre-Devonian period only that morning, just as the gas station attendant was likely to fall asleep if he started talking about the moral and ethical controversy of cloning humans. Retasu, on the other hand, actually _meant_ it when she asked those questions, a rare trait for her species to possess, and he never minded explaining his more complicated research to her in simplified terms.

Today he wasn't here to talk about human psychology or the theory of collective intelligence, though, no matter how much he'd enjoy discussing both those things with her. "I disagreed with his views on social vs. economic incentives, but that's not important. I also came to ask you a favor."

Pai set one of the plastic bags on the table, revealing powdered sugar, butter, milk. . .a silver candy mold? "I'd like you to instruct me in making chocolate."

That was not what Retasu had expected Pai to say, and it showed on her face. "Huh?" Usually when he wanted a favor it was for her to find a certain book, or to stand in front of a dangerous-looking machine while he assured her everything he was about to do was scientifically-sound. This was the first time the statement had been accompanied by _cocoa powder_.

"Chocolate. I want to make it," repeated Pai, himself a little perplexed by her confusion. She knew the steps - she made it every year, after all, and he had the supplies – what was the problem? "Will you teach me how?"

"A. . .Are you serious?" asked Retasu, eyebrows drawing together. He almost snorted at the question. He was never _not_ serious. She seemed to realize her mistake, though, and continued on, flustered. "I mean, sorry! I just, I didn't think you were much for. . ."

She motioned towards the colored candy coating peeking out of the bag. ". . .Baking."

He was unfazed by the question. "It's akin to another form of science, correct? You measure out ingredients, induce chemical reactions, and prove your hypothesis. It sounds straightforward enough."

"W-Well I don't really know any recipes that call for a hypothesis, but um. . .yes, of course I'll help you, Pai-san!"

"Admittedly I _am_ somewhat inexperienced in a kitchen but I am wait did you say yes?"

She smiled as she picked up the bag. "Well, y-yeah, why wouldn't I? We're friends, right?"

Pai couldn't help but admire her open, unwavering expression. Friends. The word wasn't dripping with sarcasm, but affectionate and firm. Friends were people who let you borrow books; who patiently listened to you go on about your latest experiment; who baked you chocolate every year even though they didn't need to.

Despite all appearances and pre-existing evidence, Retasu wasn't a total klutz in _every_ department. She'd been working at the café since middle school, and baking alongside Keiichiro almost as long, and she was excited to show Pai she wasn't a _complete_ ditz.

Retasu had spread the contents of the two grocery bags across the kitchen counter, and after Pai had scrubbed his hands thoroughly raw in the sink he turned to face her. "Where are the gloves?"

"Gloves. . .?" She frowned. "Okay, maybe baking isn't _exactly_ like science."

"Then these goggles will be unnecessary?"

Retasu'd forgotten he didn't spend much of his time at the cafe in the kitchen. "No, you usually just need an apron. Speaking of which, I only have one. . ." She unfolded a piece of faded pink fabric, frowning at it thoughtfully. "I guess I _could_ go grab my spare uniform. . ."

Perhaps it was her confidence with a spatula, or how ridiculous Pai looked in her heart-shaped work apron, but Retasu felt her nervousness at his unexpected arrival dissipate in the warm atmosphere of her kitchen. They spent time together often, and she had no reason to be so on edge around him.

She actually found herself humming as they measured ingredients, and she bumped him playfully with her hip. He regarded her with an unimpressed look, and she faltered slightly, going back to dicing butter, until, hesitantly, he bumped her back.

Retasu bit back a grin.

It was no surprise that Retasu and Pai had become close over the years. When the aliens had decided to continue their stay in Japan shortly after Deep Blue's defeat, it had been Retasu who helped the eldest alien gradually assimilate himself into Earth culture. It was Retasu who'd spent countless weekends teaching him about their ecosystem at tide pools and parks, and hundreds of hours by his side in the library doing nothing but reading over the last six years.

While the other girls were put off by his quiet and admittedly cold nature the porpoise Mew had learned to embrace it. When they did speak, their conversations usually consisted of scientific inquiries - of discussing differing philosophies and world-views. Sometimes he'd just go on about his latest experiment, muttering aloud to himself more often than not, but she'd ask questions in the right places and he'd bounce ideas off her for input. Other times he'd ask her opinion on some human concept he found intriguing, and she'd explain it to him as best she could, in as much detail as she could muster.

They'd spend entire afternoons like this, wasting hours over a single cup of coffee in heated debate over everything from the entire sci-fi genre to the idea of owning pets. Retasu knew she didn't match Pai nearly on an intellectual level, but he was patient, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy teaching her about things, just as she enjoyed learning them. Theirs was a quiet but very content friendship, threatened by nothing other than her deep, uncontrollable attraction to him.

It took a long moment to realize Pai was saying something to her and she blinked, eyes focusing from where she'd been staring at the spoon in her hand. "I-I'm sorry, Pai-san, what was that?"

"I asked if I'm doing this correctly," he said, motioning towards his bowl. The ingredients were mixed to a smooth consistency, and she beamed at him proudly.

"Yep, that's perfect!" On one hand it felt ridiculous, praising someone a good two heads taller and eight years older than her for his stirring capabilities, but at her approval he seemed almost genuinely pleased.

"Um, so the water should be hot enough by now, so we can start combining everything in a separate bowl!" Retasu carefully directed him to mix the cocoa and butter combination in. Keiichiro had taught her how to make chocolate straight from the cocoa bean when she was younger, but as Pai had come prepared for the much simpler version it wouldn't take any time at all.

"Do you know the historic origins of chocolate, Midorikawa-san?"

Retasu smiled, looking up at him as she stirred in the milk. So he'd been studying up? "Ah, no, I'm afraid I don't."

Pai cleared his throat. "The ancient Aztecs originally used cocoa beans as a form of currency around 1000 AD, but over the centuries they began boiling it down into a liquid, adding spices for flavor. That's where the word chocolate comes from - the Nahuatl word 'xocolatl', meaning 'bitter water'. Only the upper class could afford it, and Emperor Montezuma believed it was a divine drink. He said it cured fatigue, and that a single cup would allow you to walk for a whole day without food."

"Is that so!" She handed the bowl off to Pai for his turn to stir.

"When the Spanish conquered Mexico, they returned with the beverage to King Charles V, and began adding cane sugar instead of spices. They managed to keep it a secret from the outside world for almost 100 years." Retasu watched Pai stir the mixture as she had, holding the bowl in one hand and the whisk in the other. His hand, so much larger than her own, seemed to envelop the utensil, the tendons of his forearm flexing as he worked. He'd always had the careful, controlled precision of a scientist with his hands, and it figured it would carry over to the kitchen. "It wasn't until the 19th century that they made the first actual _solid_ chocolate, and that was in England."

As he recited in great detail the spread of chocolate throughout medieval Europe, Retasu's gaze drifted up his arm, across his broad shoulders and to his face. His long, straight nose, his high cheekbones, the pale skin that no amount of sunlight on Earth seemed to affect. There was a smudge of chocolate, right at the corner of his mouth, and it was awfully distracting while he talked. Cheekily, she wondered if he'd snuck a taste while she wasn't looking.

"You sure seem to know a lot about chocolate, Pai-san," remarked Retasu lightly, almost teasingly. "I thought you weren't a big fan?"

"What gave you that impression?"

She could cite six years of continuing confusion every time he received chocolate in evidence. "It's just I-I didn't think you actually ate the chocolate I make you," she admitted.

He stopped stirring and looked over at Retasu. "You give it to me. Why wouldn't I eat it?"

She blinked, taken aback by such a frank response. As always, his amethyst eyes were unnerving in their intensity, and the directness of his gaze made her flush.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh um, n-no, you've just got something on your f-face, that's all!" She wasn't lying about _that,_ at least. He went to wipe it off.

"Er, wait, it's the other side. . .actually hold on, let me just-" She reached up to wipe the smear of chocolate from his face. "There!"

She popped her finger into her mouth, humming as she sucked the chocolate off. Not too bad. Probably sweeter than what he wanted, but they could fix that with just a little - Retasu slowly became conscious of him staring at her mouth, his eyebrows arched upwards as far as they could go, and she flushed, realizing with a squeak just how unsanitary her actions were.

"A-And don't forget to wash your hands frequently so you don't cross-contaminate!" she reminded him as she turned on the faucet, lathering her hands in soap. Nice save. . .but not exactly a model teacher. Perhaps they _should_ be wearing gloves.

"Alright, so now we have to _temper_ the chocolate, and that's where it gets a little difficult!" announced Retasu cheerfully, changing the subject. Pai had made quick work of the chocolate mixture, and it was already creamy smooth.

"We just have to melt it, correct?" asked Pai, looking into the bowl with a look of concentration usually reserved for experiments and very abstract algebra.

Retasu smiled, always excited to be able to teach _him_ something. "Well, actually, cocoa butter's structure is crystalline, so when you melt chocolate you have to control the cooling temperature, too! Heating it up then cooling it slowly s-stabilizes the fat crystals and gives it a dense structure, which will make it shiny and harder to melt!"

She started a saucepan of simmering water on the stove, helping him pour the chocolate they'd made into a bowl over it. As they worked she talked him through each step, being careful not to get any water near the chocolate itself. Her forearm was pressed up against his as she stirred the chocolate, and she'd never really considered what the coarse dark hair along his forearm would feel like. It wasn't. . .unpleasant? Why was she even _thinking_ about this? Maybe it was because she never stood this close to Pai in respect towards his desire for personal space - something she herself understood all too well. Something she herself also felt she was infringing deeply upon with the way his thigh was pressed against her hip from his cramped position stooped over the stove.

"You're staring again, Midorikawa-san."

He hadn't even looked up from the bowl, his expression betraying nothing. "Is there something else on my face?"

Pai's gaze slid in her direction, making blood rush to her own face, but this time there was a barely-visible pull at the corner of his lips. For some reason that only made her go redder. She hated how easily flustered she was under his scrutiny. "Oh, ah, n-no! I was just thinking!"

"Is that so."

If she didn't know any better, she might've called the lilt in his deep voice _amusement. _"Y-Yes! I was just thinking how I never pictured you as much of a c-cook, that's all," she admitted, looking bashfully at her hands. "I didn't think it was something you were really interested in."

"Well I must admit, I was unsure about tonight, arriving unannounced," said Pai, catching her off guard.

'Unsure' was the last word that came to mind when she thought of the cool, collected alien. "What makes you say that?"

His shoulder moved in the faintest ghost of a shrug. "I'm sure you had something better to do than waste your time teaching me basic kitchen skills. Especially considering it's Valentine's Day."

If Pai noticed the way her entire spine stiffened, he chose not to comment. Plans? On Valentine's Day? Who would she have plans with, when the only person she'd ever consider asking literally didn't believe in the holiday. "Ah, n-no, it's fine, I don't mind. And it's never too late to learn how to cook!"

When he didn't answer, she looked up from the chocolate. He seemed to be deep in thought, his dark eyebrows drawn in concentration. When he looked at her again, his eyes actually made her shiver under their scrutiny. She felt like she was standing naked in the middle of her kitchen when he looked at her like that. "It's as you humans say, correct? Better. . .choco_late_. . .than never."

The chocolate she was pouring missed the target entirely, splattering against the tile floor. Pai quickly grabbed for it, taking it out of her hands when she reached to cover her mouth. Laughter bubbled up uncontrollably in her throat so hard she had to lean against the counter for support, but he just continued pouring the chocolate without her. Still, he couldn't disguise the almost minuscule twitch of his lip.

Retasu was still wiping tears from her eyes when her phone vibrated in her pocket, distracting her momentarily.

'_HE IS WEARING A CROP TOP TO PICK ME UP THIS IS NOT A FALSE ALARM_' read the horrified text. She'd barely picked it up before it vibrated again.

'_WAIT A SECOND THAT SHIRT LOOKS FAMILIAR._' She smiled, tapping out a quick 'good luck.'

Unsurprisingly enough, Pai was also checking his own cellphone - the same clunky model he'd been sporting for the last half-decade. He was staring at the scratched screen, his angular eyebrows shooting higher up on his forehead with each word he read.

"Kisshu-san?" asked Retasu, already knowing the answer.

Pai snapped his phone shut without texting a reply. "It appears that, against my best wishes, he rented a limousine for the evening. Apparently the driver is refusing to make the 'romantic drive' to Paris Kisshu had prepared, where he planned to propose to her on top of the Eiffel Tower while fireworks spelled out their names."

Her own eyebrows shot upwards. "W-Wow, Paris! Geography was never really one of his strong suits, w-was it."

"Second only to math, if he thinks he can afford any of that on a waiter's salary." He put his phone back in his pocket. "How does Momomiya-san feel about all this?"

Retasu felt bad for finding humor in the whole situation, but it really _was_ ridiculous. "It sounds like he showed up wearing her clothes _again_ so not great, I'm guessing."

"Normally I would agree but. . ." Pai motioned towards the frilly white apron still tied around his waist – the apron that technically belonged to her. "I'm hardly in any position to comment."

Retasu covered her mouth to hide her giggle and she decided she liked the barely-noticeable pull at his lips whenever he made her laugh, as though he were particularly pleased with himself. This time when she swatted him playfully it was unselfconsciously, and even that brief skin-on-skin contact was enough to send a thrill through her.

The heady aroma of chocolate had really begun to fill the small kitchen now, and she turned to Pai with a renewed enthusiasm, her smile brighter than ever. "Alright, everything looks good, so now we just have to wait for it to cool! It's too hot to taste right now, so we can just pop it in the fridge for a little bit. In the meantime. . ."

Retasu picked up the television remote from where it had been resting on the kitchen counter. "There's this great new documentary playing on tv tonight – wanna watch?"

"Don't we need to keep an eye on the test results while they cool?" asked Pai. "I wouldn't want a botched experiment because of human error. . .no offense, of course."

It took her a second to realize he was talking about the chocolate. "No, don't worry! Worst case scenario we have to make a second batch, but I do this all the time! I'm sure it'll turn out fine."

Retasu felt Pai's eyes on her as he lifted the spoon to her mouth, her tongue peeking out from her mouth to taste it. This was almost exactly like, she recalled, a scene from _E.T. Erotic Terrestrial_, except it had been freeze-dried astronaut ice cream, and the handsome humanoid alien had been wearing a whole lot less. . .

Retasu gagged around the spoon.

That was _not_ chocolate. Chocolate couldn't simultaneously be charred _and_ slimy at the same time. It wasn't supposed to be both chunky _and_ smooth, and it _definitely_ wasn't supposed to have the durability of chewing gum. After twenty seconds of trying to break it down with saliva she was forced to swallow the chunk whole.

"W-Wow, that is s-_something_," wheezed Retasu, recoiling and trying to hold back her gag reflex. Her first instinct was to drop the spatula in the trash.

"It's bad," stated Pai flatly.

"No, it's not bad, it's. . ." She could barely make out Pai's disbelieving gaze through her watering eyes. She removed her glasses to wipe at her eyes.

"I think I'm going to throw up. Wait no, it passed, it's gone."

It was disappointing news. Pai frowned, backtracking his steps and wondering where he'd gone wrong. It might have been an outlier were this their first trial, but it was almost midnight and they were on their sixth batch of chocolate. Pots and pans were piling up in the kitchen sink and the previously scrubbed-clean floor was slippery with a mixture of cocoa powder, blood, sweat and tears. The fire alarm had gone off three times in the last hour.

Pai sighed, running a chocolate-spattered hand through his thick dark hair. "It's useless. This trial is unusable."

Retasu had just regained the ability to smell and breathe through her nostrils again. "N-No. . .don't say. . .that. . ."

Retasu didn't want to say it out loud, but maybe she'd finally found the one thing Pai _wasn't _good at. Perhaps there was a _reason _he preferred fast food, now that she finally thought about it.

The heat of the stove was suffocating in her small kitchen, and she could feel sweat beading along her forehead. They were all out of baking supplies and Pai looked like he was about to pass out any second, so it was with mercy that Retasu suggested they sit down for a minute. The pair were covered in burnt chocolate, their aprons long since discarded as they'd become too filthy to wear.

"You make it seem so easy every year," admitted Pai, not even seeming to notice where Retasu pressed against his side on the couch, equally exhausted. "Perhaps I overestimated my abilities."

"It usually _is_ easier," admitted Retasu, quickly amending herself. "But I'm sure it wasn't your fault! Don't beat yourself up about it or anything, there's always next year."

Next year. He liked the sound of that – not only because it meant they were done slaving away over a hot stove for the night but because it promised at least one more evening with Retasu.

Worn out and disappointed by his own inadequacies in the kitchen, he found that he was still in. . .a good mood? That morning seemed far behind him now, sitting in Retasu's tiny apartment as she leaned against his shoulder, equally exhausted. He'd had a good time. He was _having_ a good time. He might never scrub out the cocoa powder from under his fingernails but he _enjoyed_ spending time with Retasu.

He allowed himself to study her in this period of silence, her face barely visible underneath the curtain of her bangs.

Symmetrical features, considered a common marker of beauty among humans. Malnutrition and mineral deficiencies would cause hair loss, but her hair was long and thick, exemplifying good health in the last 2-3 years. Full breasts, suggestive of higher levels of estradiol and progesterone, and therein fertility. Wide hips, also indicative of underlying genetic fitness. Enormous blue eyes, framed by thick black eyelashes, to evoke innocence and trigger the protective instinct in a mate.

Physical features a future partner would no doubt find pleasing one day, Pai surmised. He was too intelligent to be affected by such obvious biological triggers, but he couldn't help but wonder about the traits that were less easily measured. The way she played with the end of her braid when she was nervous. The pitch her voice reached when she was flustered. The way her glasses hung crookedly off her face sometimes. The soft curve of her pink lips when she smiled up at him. Would a future partner find those things pleasing, as well?

He stared at her hand where it rest on her lap, mere inches from his own and so much smaller. The edges of her nails were ragged from where she'd chewed them off.

Pai considered, not for the first time, what it would be like to hold that hand, and decided it would not be totally detestable.

"I'm sorry the chocolate didn't come out right, Pai-san," sighed Retasu, reaching to run a hand through her hair. His eyes followed the action automatically and he blinked, gaze returning to her face.

"No, I must apologize for wasting your time today, Midorikawa-san," he replied, hoping she hadn't noticed him openly staring.

"I. . .It's no problem Pai-san," she said, so softly he wasn't even sure he'd heard her. Her voice was an octave higher than usual. "I mean, you're supposed to spend Valentine's Day with the one you care about, right?"

Pai's heartbeat increased, sending his pulse racing. Odd. There were small, delicate fingers curled around his own hand, and he could feel a second racing pulse in the warmth of them. Odder still.

He felt his head grow light and his face become hot, and it took him a long moment to realize he was blushing.

Extremely odd.

If he thought his face was warm, the girl sitting next to him was luminescent, so bright red she seemed to reflect off him. Her heart was thundering so loud he suspected even a human would be able to hear it, a feat in and of itself. She was sweating visibly and her hand was clammy against his.

"That is correct," agreed Pai, right before he kissed her.

Retasu felt his lips skim her cheekbone and twisted her neck so fast she thought it might snap her nose, throwing her arms up as though defending herself from an oncoming attacker and hitting him square in the jaw. She only realized her bare foot had also come down on his when she heard the resounding _crunch_ of bone on bone and the string of curse-words that accompanied it. He leapt to his feet, stumbling away from the couch.

"S-Sorry!" gasped Retasu, jumping up out of her seat as her mortification was momentarily overridden by concern for her friend. "Oh my god are you okay oh my _god."_

"I misread that situation entirely," wheezed Pai, clutching his stomach as tears watered at his eyes. Kissing had seemed so much easier in theory.

"I am _so_ sorry, Pai-san! That was all my fault! Y-You scared me!"

"_Scared_ you?" he repeated, eyebrows drawn in confusion. He really _had_ misread that situation.

"W-Well surprised me, I mean!" clarified Retasu, cupping her hands along the side of his face to make sure she hadn't grievously injured him. His cheek was red but she didn't think it'd bruise. "Y-Y-You have to warn me about that kind of thing!"

"I apologize, M-Midorikawa-san, that was entirely inappropriate," stammered Pai – _stammered._ There was the unusual warmth in his face again, back tenfold this time, and the horrible weight in his chest he now recognized as _embarrassment._ "I would normally never do something so vulgar, I don't know what came over me –"

Standing on her tiptoes, Retasu pulled Pai down to meet her halfway before she lost her courage. An undignified grunt escaped his lips as she pressed her own against them. Their noses bumped a little but she was just happy not to step on his foot or elbow him in the gut this time.

His lips were chapped, almost dry. Retasu found herself thinking he should drink more water. She stood there motionless for five long second, until, when he still hadn't responded, she let go of the shirt collar she'd grabbed him by.

"I've been waiting. . .s-six years to do that," admitted Retasu, casting her eyes downwards. She'd let go of his shirt collar but her hands still rest against his chest, slender fingers spanning across his collarbone. He blinked. For once he had no response.

So instead he grabbed her by the waist and fisted his other hand in the hair at the base of her neck and kissed her in what he hoped was the correct way this time. She tasted of twenty failed attempts at chocolate, of charred cocoa bean shells and misshapen truffles and arguably sweeter than anything else he'd ever had.

* * *

Retasu and Pai were asleep on the couch, propped against some pillows and hands intertwined when Kisshu and Ichigo stumbled in long after midnight, arm in arm and uproariously drunk with a carton of ice cream and half-a-dozen DVDs between them. Kisshu was wearing a pair of pink paw print-patterned footie pajamas, Ichigo carrying a long-stemmed rose between her teeth, and they'd barely registered the unconscious couple before they froze in the doorway of the living room. The kitchen looked like the aftermath of an earthquake, dirty dishes piled ceiling-high and dark brown footprints visible across the linoleum floor.

There was barely time to register the image before a floorboard creaked beneath them, making the tip of Pai's ear twitch visibly, and they bolted for the door.


End file.
